quidditchgrrl

Let America Be America Again

By Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed--
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There's never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this "homeland of the free.")

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek--
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one's own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean--
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I'm the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That's made America the land it has become.
O, I'm the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home--
For I'm the one who left dark Ireland's shore,
And Poland's plain, and England's grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa's strand I came
To build a "homeland of the free."

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we've dreamed
And all the songs we've sung
And all the hopes we've held
And all the flags we've hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay--
Except the dream that's almost dead today.

O, let America be America again--
The land that never has been yet--
And yet must be--the land where every man is free.
The land that's mine--the poor man's, Indian's,
Negro's, ME--
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people's
lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath--
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain--
All, all the stretch of these great green states--
And make America again!

*salute* To all of the servicemen who have died in defense of this country, to all who have returned as different people, thank you.

I have decided that I have to view what is going on along the Gulf Coast (because it's more than NO that's affected) as though it's a movie; otherwise my head will explode from pure, unaduterated rage.

People in the United States of America should not be dying of exposure and dehydration 3 days after a disaster when we can mobilize and provide relief on the other side of the world within 24 hours. The head of FEMA says that his organization has no plan to deal with people who do not have bank accounts or check books. You know, because the only people who ever need federal disaster help are suburbanites.

Still, there are bright spots, like the young man who commandeered a school bus, picked up whoever he saw along the way, and drove to Houston. That's ballsy.

Gas prices are going up and it's possible that the economy may fall into a recession based on this disaster. But if there is one person out there who is willing to take control and do whatever has to be done to help his fellow man, then there has to be hope that NO will recover, whether it is rebuilt or not.

Night, y'all.

My mom always loved this time of the year, when everything had sprouted and it was hot and humid and rain fell fast and furious and the sun dried the runoff into instant wavy creekbeds.

There was always enough shade and not a whole lot that needed to get done.  You could relax and let the day pass by.

I like to think that my mom wanted to wait for this time of year to leave, so that we wouldn't remember her passing with the horrible gloom that mid-winter brings, or the glittering false hope of spring.  I like to think she wanted to go when the sun was the highest, the days the longest, so that we'd remember an eternity of sunshine rather than dry falling leaves.

It's been five years and there are still times when I want to pick up the phone and share the mundane details of the day with her.  Or ask her some silly question that only she knows the answer to.

It's not fair to want her back.

Cutting this to spare the uninterested my biased, half-assed opinion.

( Controlling, overbearing and judgemental - it's no wonder )

Well, good morning, 2005!  Here's hoping that this year will be better for all of you, because goodness knows for some of us it couldn't get much worse.

Resolutions?  Not many, although I did come to a conclusion about my current job last night.  ( Read more... )

The things I typically focus on at the new year are year-end reports and getting things started post-holiday.  Not much time for reflection or regret.

Fandom-wise, I am going to concentrate on my writer's block and try to post up some thoughts here without being a complete and total wanker.  Any advice from the peanut gallery?

And now that it's over, ( End of year meme for 2004 )

Yes, I live.  I'm upright for short amounts of time right now, getting through email and other things slowly but surely.  Eleven days in the pokey (God, literally, I look like a junkie) will do that to you.

And thank you, thank you, thank you for all your well-wishes and emails, means the world.

( The shakedown: )

Wow.  I'm commenting here because she's drowning in comments at the moment.

I'm not surprised.  I have my own FBI file (for working at a super-sekrit government contractor and having a clearance) and one with Homeland Security, and you'd better BELIEVE this doesn't sound out of the realm of possibility.

The government knows what my brother is doing every minute of every day, and that's gotten co-workers of his in trouble (not because of him, but because of the proximity of the person to my brother, and his coworker was overheard making comments that could possibly constitute a threat to the president). 

The Secret Service does not discriminate, because the above happened during the Clinton administration (I mean, in North Carolina there are right-wing nutjobs populating nearly every square inch, right?) with a hard-right coworker of his who said, "I'd like to put a bullet between his eyes."  Yeah, I'd give that as reason enough for a visit.

anniesj is now sadder but wiser, and very sensible about giving the virtual finger to the person who reported her by refusing to let this change how she uses her Constitutional rights.

What the original reporter - the person who reported anniesj - doesn't realize is that he/she also has an FBI file as well.  Yes, if you report "un-American" activity, you receive your very own file at no additional charge (or mention).  You may not go on a no-fly list, you may never hear directly from the Secret Service again, but your name and other information are filed into the database same as the "perpetrator".  I hope they think that's an even trade-off.  *cackles evilly*

( This is feeding my paranoia )

( Man, I've never liked Valentine's Day. )

Lupercalia, anyone?